Aria Matthews is in love with her best friend, Lucas Miller. It is the best kept secret since Area 51 and she knows she would take it to the grave. But things start changing in her senior year of high school when another of her friends takes it upon...
Remembering that I had to talk to Cam, I caught up with her after lunch, just as she was leaving for the next class.
"Hey, Cam, do you have a minute?"
"Yeah! What's up?" She was back being her usual chirpy self. "How was your lunch date?"
"It was fine," I said distractedly. I looked around, then pulled her behind a potted plant. "Tell me something. What happened to you at the party?"
Instantly, her smile faltered. "What do you mean?"
I frowned. "I mean, afterwards you seemed kind of out of it. Like depressed. Did something happen?"
She started rummaging into her lemon green limited edition Prada handbag, avoiding my eyes. "I don't know, A. The party seemed dismal to me. I was just tired."
She shrugged nonchalantly, but I wasn't done. "Are you sure? Did someone say anything? Did that loser jock Dean say something?" I would go kick his butt if he hurt my friend.
A dark shadow crossed her face, but she just shook her head. This was so unlike her.
"You told me the other day that I could tell you anything and the same applies here," I said earnestly, squeezing her hand. "I would always be willing to listen to you."
Cam smiled, her eyes looking tired again. "You're sweet. And yes, I'm sure. Nothing happened."
But I knew she was lying.
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The Economics class was a joke. The teacher, Mr. Mehta droned on and on, not caring if the students were paying attention or not. Likewise, the students did whatever they wanted to in his class. Be it chatting or taking a nap. Although, by an unwritten rule, he did not have to raise his voice above the background chatter. He was a tall, thin man, with dark skin and a receding hairline. His eyes were droopy as if he would himself fall asleep any minute.
Even I did not take notes, because the sound of the teacher's voice was like a lullaby that lulled even the most resolute students to sleep. His monotonous voice was like a warm, cozy blanket that encompassed the classroom, snaring anyone who dared to listen to his lecture. In short, he was a total Jigglypuff.
When I entered, prepared for a snooze fest, Mason waved his hand, pointing out the empty seat next to him. I hesitated. This was a class where I usually sat next to Luke.
Seeing what had caught my attention, Luke just gave me a bored look and then, shrugging carelessly, took a seat in the back with Travis, an overweight pimply guy with thick-framed eyeglasses. Travis sat a bit straighter when Luke sat next to him, looking pleased.
"Want to sit with me?" Mason asked, when I went to him. This was the last class of the day so I agreed.
Mason watched me in amusement as I sat and arranged all my stationery in a color-coded manner. I might have a touch of OCD.
